Helpdesk Rivalries, et al

More Helpdesk Rivalries and other humor stuff?

  • Yes!

    Votes: 15 83.3%

  • No!

    Votes: 1 5.6%

  • No Helpdesk Rivalries, but maybe other stuff

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • Only other stuff, no Helpdesk Rivalries

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • Ubiquitous Other

    Votes: 2 11.1%
  • Total voters
    18
  • Poll closed .
F

Fat Burger

Flaccid Member
Sep 30, 2004
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www.heartboxers.com
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Last week I got one of those typical "I'd like to buy your domain..." emails. I sent back a response offering the domain for various things like the last number of PI, the Holy Grail (cup or proof of Dan Brown theory, I'm not picky), etc. I BCCed it to a couple of co-workers, and one of them commented that he'd love to see me write more stuff. I passed on a couple of the old Helpdesk Rivalries articles, and he got a good laugh out of them, especially since he readily recognized who the real people were being parodied.

Anyway, here's the question: would anyone be interested in me writing some more stuff like that?
 
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You have seven days (to vote)
 
For you young'uns, here are a couple samples:

Helpdesk Rivalries, Part 2

Hatred is an interesting feeling. It can plunge you into new lows or raise you to a challenge. With Skye, I took the former.

Knowing that the little shitstain would be there at 6am, I set my alarm for 4:30. Only one time before I had woken up so early. But there wasn't a Gamecube at the end of this rainbow, just the possibility of sweet revenge. Sweet, visceral pain and torment, all before McMuffin time.

As I plotted what I would do with the soon-to-be liberated office supplies (that chair is mine, Sam) I drifted off.

*bzzt* *bzzt* *bzzt* *bzzt*

5:17. Fuck.

After an Espresso shower, I ran to my cubicle at exactly 5:57. A quick glance showed my that Skye hadn't arrived yet. Delicious. I poked my head above the cube farm to check for witnesses. Most of the late night shift were still asleep or had already left, so I calmly went into Skye's cube and removed the battery from his headset and replaced it with a dead one. Victory! And all before McMuffin time!

I strode out of the office triumphant. On the way I passed by the CIO, who joyfully noted "Tony, here a bit early? I like your dedication, son."

"Thank you, sir. Just doing what I can." Ah, both modesty and a sense of pride in my work. That 2% will be mine next quarter.

No sooner than I had made my plans for what to do with my newfound fortune had I seen Skye, holding a box of bagels as he tried to get through the revolving doors. Please drop them, I prayed silently. Please drop them, then try to pick them up like no one saw you. Please drop them, fall down and cry like the little prick you...

Fuck. Sandra helped him.

Ah, Sandra. The sun to my darkened night, the star to my wayward ship in the storm. The hot secretary to my lovestruck helpdesk tech.

"Morning Tony! You look nice today," she purred. With her it was always difficult to determine if she was flirting with me or just being polite. Right now I didn't care which one. She was talking to me.

"Skye and I just picked up some bagels."

Fuck.

"Oh, that's cool," I said through gritted teeth. That skidmark is hitting on my girl.

"Hey, you want one?" she said. I declined, saying that there was a McMuffin with my name on it. I quickly made my exit.

Eleven minutes later, I was in egg and cheese heaven. Skye was putting the finishing touches on his sesame seed bagel when the call came in. I listen in, as he struggles with the volume control on his headset. "Hello? Hello? I'm sorry, I seem to be having trouble with my..."

*click*

Success! One more angry customer. But how long could this go on?

After the second call, our manager stops by. Skye stammers out that his headset seems to be malfunctioning. The manager leans over to me and says, "Hey Tony, could you give Skye a hand on his headset?"

"Sure, I reply." Now, I strike.

I lean over to his cube and begin to fumble with the headset. As bitch-boy recounts his difficulties, Sandra walks by. With a quick thought, I dislodge the battery and test it against my tongue.

I say loud enough for almost everyone to hear "Skye, the battery's dead. Might want to change that, pal." Snickers can be heard from the nearby cubes, and I even managed to impress Sandra with my manly display of testing methodologies in the process.

I go back to my cube triumphant. I can smell Skye's fear, and it is sweet.
Click to expand...


Arafat Treated for Erectile Dysfunction

According to sources close to the Palestinian leader's French doctors, Yasser Arafat is not concerned with his life as much as with his...love life. Francine Balfour, speaking on condition of anonymity, informed Useless News that Arafat was in fact not admitted for any life-threatening ailment, but to treat Erectile Dysfunction. Erectile Dysfunction is also known as ED, impotence, or as the French like to call it; "Le Dead Worm". Millions all over the world are stricken by this debilitating illness, which is now treatable through drugs such as Viagra or [email protected]. Unfortunately for Arafat, email does not currently exist in Palestine, so the world leader was unaware of such [email protected] and qu1c|< treatment.

Useless News had a chance to talk to another world leader who has also fought with ED; Bob Dole. Mr. Dole informed us that Viagra has changed his life. In fact, throughout the interview he insisted on referring to himself as a "wild stallion" and made references to "sowing his oats like a drunk UNLV frat boy after finals". We unfortunately had to terminate the interview early after Mr. Dole applied electrodes to his nipples and told us to "go wild with these things, I really love it".
He did however, ask us to inform Yasser Arafat's wife that if she was ever feeling lonely, he would bravely face possible suicide bombers in order to give her some [Editor's note: Mr Dole's comments have been removed on the advice of the Surgeon General. We apologize for any inconvenience].

April23, the Useless News resident expert on the causes of ED, was tasked with researching the various cures, including v1@gr@ and ci.aIi-s. After looking through the 5,392 emails received from independant marketers, she had the following conclusive evidence:"overrun barter simpleminded clash heck coatings purification hammocks enticed quacked grimed tentacles employing
melody contributes quota letter annoyance".
If anyone has any idea what this means please, please let us know.

Meanwhile in Paris, doctors are keeping Mr. Arafat under heavy surveillance. Although the hospital is currently closed off to any visitors, we have received reports of a recent shipment of magnifying glasses and tweezers. This leads us to believe that perhaps the French doctors are trying the ancient art of acupuncture, and are ensuring that it is safe and accurate. At least, we hope so. For his wife's sake. But if not, Bob Dole is easy to find.
Click to expand...
 
If it's funny and smart I'll read it. But mark my words - one screw up, one single unfunny or unsmart syllable, line, and/or paragraph and you're THROUGH.
 
April25 said:
Under those terms, you should be through.
Click to expand...

Terms don't apply to the termmaker. You'll have to come up with your own terms and be your own termmaker.

But mark my words - if I don't like your terms and don't want them to apply to me you're THROUGH.
 
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